


imbroglio

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blanche uses she/her pronouns but she's a man yes it's valid don't @ me, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 13:58:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19319596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: "i… don't like it," he says finally."sex?""being the one… yes.""iph, y'know that's what it's s'pposed t'be about, though, right?"





	imbroglio

getting iphi to do something is as easy as hitting the bullseye would be for an archer. but that, of course, depends on the nature of the request.

he'll do nigh anything, one nice word and it's like he's wrapped around a pinkie.

but, as blanche has learned, the same courtesy he gives to others' requests he does not extend to his own. she can't think of the last time he'd asked for anything, at least not on his own. she'd heard from y'weta that he'd wanted to visit oakwood again, an offhanded comment that must've come up in a discussion about something completely unrelated, but he'd still been hesitant when she asked him about it.

he's even worse in bed.

oh no, he's not a bad partner by any stretch of the imagination; in fact, he's of the best she's had the pleasure of having. but he never initiates anything, never says what he wants whenever blanche herself does.

some nights, it's like having sex with a doll made specifically for her. still great, but it leaves a bad aftertaste in the back of her throat. and nay, it has nothing to do with her tail shedding, thank you very much.

"how'd you want me t'night?" she asks, shirt long discarded and pants hanging dangerously low on her hips where she sits sprawled on iphi's hips, framing him as best as her shorter legs allow her to.

his hands leave her hips, thumbs having been tracing nonsensical patterns onto the soft skin and sending shivers cascading down her spine. "any way you do is more than great," he signs.

she'd expected that, of course she had. that's all he ever says. if she wants slow, they go slow, if she wants him to slam her into the door, he does (but slam in his books looks different than it does in hers. but hey, at least she's never had woodburn on her face), if she wants him beneath her, he is, and if she wants him above her, he is.

he'd voiced discomfort less times than she has fingers on one hand (twice; once when she'd finally gotten to see him naked, and once when she tried properly sucking him off). and it makes her livid.

not necessarily at him, nay. it's not like he'd done anything wrong, but sometimes, in the dark and covered with a blanket, she doubts. mayhaps she isn't the most considerate lay.

it's hard to remember exactly what her doubts have been, though, when the night is so far ago and seemingly all her blood has decided to pump itself south.

she promised herself she'd get him to be at least a little demanding today, and she isn't backing down.

actually, she isn't even going down. she puts all her weight onto his hips and grinds down, keeping him still.

and still he is, not even breathing as she rocks down on him, feeling his hardening lengths worming their way out of his pouch. she sighs, reaches down and cradles his cheek with a hand, thumb rubbing at the incredibly soft scales and the even softer skin.

his big golden eyes look up at her like she'd put the sun in the sky, or at least was going to if he did as asked. blanche bites her lip. tastes blood on her tongue.

"breathe, rose," she says, and only then does iphi's bare chest move, slowly rising up as he inhales. she keeps her hand on his cheek, unwilling to pull away. she traces one undereye tattoo and white lashes flutter closed. iphi leans into her touch.

she's still biting down on her lip, breaks the skin in another place, and forces herself to pull away.

"iph," she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "i ain't doin' anything tonight 'less ya ask me fer it."

iphi blinks up at her owlishly, eyes so wide only his limbal rings are visible in the sea of black. his gaze travels left and then right and then back to her, brows scrunching up before he raises his hands and signs. "what would you like tonight?"

"whatever y'do." she says it maybe a bit too fast, and maybe a bit too sternly. she's looking down at him with challenge in her eyes.

iphi cradles his hands to his chest, obviously unsure of what to say to that. they stay like that for long, long minutes, the tension between them stretching like molasses.

blanche is starting to have trouble staying still, very much having looked forward to more than just heated makeouts, so her ears perk up when iphi finally untangles his fingers to speak again.

"can you get off?"

and immediately her heart plunges down to her stomach and she finds it hard to swallow around the lump that had formed in her throat. she scrambles off of him, ears flat against her head and tail curling itself around one of her thighs.

"i'm so--"

iphi isn't even looking at her then, instead staring off to the side, his brows still furrowed and lips pressed tightly together to hide the way he's biting the inside of it. "sorry. i'll go right myself," he says, pushing himself up. his hands drop to his lap, flats of his palms pushing down at the very prominent (for him) tent in his pants.

blanche's hand reaches out on its own as he stands up, appearing much smaller with the way his shoulduyers were slumped. "iphi," she almost chokes out, unsure where she'd even go with it.

he turns around, a hand still hiding himself even through the pants, and she knows he's trying to push his cocks back inside as he's wont to. the knowledge makes the chasm in her chest feel like a festering wound one digs their fingers into.

"i'm sorry," he repeats, not even dropping his hand from his chest afterwards.

"what…" blanche has to swallow after her voice cracks, leaning forward on her arms, "what're you apologizin' f'r, rose? y'didn't do anythin' wrong."

for a second, he looks like he'd been punched in the gut, that much he folds in on himself. his eyes trail everywhere again, from blanche to the wall, bookcase, each little trinket on the shelves. "i didn't mean to force you into anything."

as ever, his brevity and lack of explaining leave blanche in the not-quite-dark.

"y'didn't force me into nothin', iph," she tells him, raising her hand again. it takes a moment of scooting before she can reach his hand and hold it tight. but only for a moment, because he pulls away to sign.

"you," a pause, "didn't do what you want."

blanche's face falls into something softer, an edge of… sadness, maybe, in it. she tugs him back to bed by the edge of his tanktop and he lets himself get pulled, ending sitting back down on he edge of the mattress.

it only now occurs to her that he didn't say 'can you get off?' before, rather she mistook 'you can get off,' for it.

"rose," blanche says, tone shifting into seriousness. "why don'tcha ever wanna feel good?"

she hates how he looks, hunched over and almost trembling. this idiot, who has fought gods with naught but some damned cards, and here he is, scared of letting her make him feel good.

"i… don't like it," he says finally.

"sex?"

"being the one… yes."

"iph, y'know that's what it's s'pposed t'be about, though, right?"

he cocks his head at her; she puts a hand onto his arm, thumb rubbing at the edge of the scale patch there. she attempts a soothing smile, but she isn't quite sure how it gets across.

"sex's s'pposed to feel good for us both. don't," she holds up her other hand when she sees him about to say that 'he likes when she feels good'. "that ain't what this's about. y'make me feel good, we both know that. and i wanta make ya feel just as good. y'always make it 'bout me 'n forget yourself, and i hate that."

he's cradling his hands to his chest, looking down, but she knows full well he's listening to every single one of her words.

"y'deserve as good as ya give, so lemme give it back. please?"

iphi nods slowly, and it brings such a bright smile onto blanche's face that it puts the sun to shame. the seekers should try looking for her, she brings the sun with her wherever she goes.

he's blushing, the freckles on his cheeks turning a deep shade of red that makes them more prominent, and makes blanche want to count them all. instead she leans up and kisses a patch right below his eye, and then captures his lips into a peck.

"a'ight, now be a good boy, lay down 'n tell me what y'like so i can do it fer ya," she says; iphi's whole frame shudders and his eyes widen, a look of a deer caught in the middle of the night. he scrambles to lay down, tail flicking to and fro between his legs.

"well…?" blanche prompts when he just lays there motionless, staring up at her like she'd put the stars onto the night sky. "what 'bout the other part of the deal?"

he hesitates a moment before raising his hands, teeth biting down on his bottom lip. "i," he starts, "like it when you use your mouth."

he presses his hands to his chest again, like he thinks he'd just said something horrible, but blanche beams down at him with the wildest grin on her face, teeth shining in what light filters in through the window.

"oh i can de-finitely do that," she almost purrs, licking her lips.

but maybe she can push it a bit further. her lips quirk up in a feral grin.

they kiss, slotting together like they've been created just for that. blanche's tongue prods at his lips until iphi relents (not that he'd been fighting it in the first place) and allows her in, tongues meshing and exploring each other all over again as they like to do. he hand finds itself in his hair, burying her fingers into the soft locks, running down the strands, lightly dragging down his broken horn.

he whines beneath her, a squeakish sound somewhere in the back of his throat that only goes higher when her other hand reaches for his chest, worming under the all too short hem of his shawl.

she runs her fingers over his nipple, and maybe she enjoys his shivers a little too much. her lips follow suit, peppering kisses down his jaw, down the column of his neck, pushing aside fabric and going down to his collarbone. there she decides she's fed up with the shawl and starts tugging it up, messing up his hair as she pulls it over his head. it spreads across the pillow in every which direction, and coupled with the doopy, shy smile on his lips, blanche thinks there's no one she has ever loved as much as she does him.

she kisses him again, just because she /can/, and then remaps her way down to his chest, running her tongue over the scales beneath his pecs, index running over the opposite one until he wiggles, heart hammering in his ribcage. it's so loud she can hear it, a sound she wouldn't mind falling asleep to. maybe later.

"hmm?" she hums, "'sthere somethin' y'wanna tell me?"

her eyes are crinkled at the corners, a grin still firmly in place.

iphi's face is red as a tomato and he's trying to hide it with his hands while still looking at her, brows furrowed in that particular way they do when he's enjoying something.

"please," he signs.

"please wha-t?"

he actually hides his face this time, pressing his palms against his cheeks and turning his whole face to the side as much as his broken horn allows him to.

blanche nuzzles into his neck, nibbling at the protrusion of bone and soothing it with her tongue right after.

"lower," he manages to say even with shaky fingers. blanche decides to take mercy on him and presses a line of kisses down his toned stomach to where the scaly happy trail starts.

she meets the hem of his pants soon enough and, mouthing at the scales, tugs the cotton down his thighs until they pool around his knees. he manages to kick them off without kicking her in the process and they end up on the floor next to the bed, among the pile of blanche's underclothes that has been gathering there for a week.

he thinks about having to do laundry the next day, but only for a moment and no more, distracted when blanche forgoes her teasing and simply grasps his shafts, the pads of her fingers gliding along the surfaces easily, aided by the copious amounts of slick coating both of them.

he opens his mouth in a soundless scream, hips arching off the bed and into her touch, already so desperate even after getting only a taste.

but blanche will be the one getting a taste.

she licks her lips.

he tongue is rough, and though iphi had never explicitly told her he loves it, she can tell just from the shivers cascading down his back as she starts licking her way up and down his cock, tasting the slightly salty slick. he used to be afraid of her teeth, the golden one especially, but he doesn't even peep when she goes down, all too easily swallowing down the length of one of his cocks.

she keeps a hand on the other one, absently stroking it as she sucks, letting out tiny noises in the back of her throat. they reverberate straight through him. iphi buries a hand in her hair, threading through the unruly strands if only to ground himself.

he feels extremely close already, blood boiling in his veins and toes curling on their own. blanche would probably make fun of him for ending the fun so soon, but he tugs at her hair softly anyhow, fingers rubbing the spot behind her ear that she loves so much.

her eyes slip open, peering up at him through a haze of lust. she cocks her head to the side, lips still connected to him through a strand of saliva even when she pulls all the way off, tongue lolling out of her mouth so obscenely it should be banned.

"i'm close," he tells her, trying (and failing) to contain his shaking.

blanche just licks her lips and says, "good." and then she's opening her mouth and engulfing the other cock she didn't pay attention to before, tongue flattened against the underside of it and dragging with the most delicious friction.

iphi's head falls back against the mountain of pillows, eyes screwed shut and mouth falling open. it's too much at once and he lets himself fall over the edge. if his voice had ever been working, it'd be blanche's name on his lips, reverberating through the whole house. he'd be screaming, crying it out to the heavens.

as it is, only a choked squeak gets out. his spine arches and blanche has to pull off when it gets too much and she can't keep swallowing the cum that instead dribbles down her chin, stripes painted on her cheeks and through her hair.

iphi slings a hand over his flaming face, chest heaving as he slowly calms down from his high, feeling boneless and tired.

he looks down at her through hooded, misty eyes, takes in her shaking form kneeling between his legs with a hand stroking herself through her own release, white splattering his thighs and the bedsheets, and for a moment he sees himself, sees the way he does the same for her, feeling so good seeing her enjoying what he does.

it feels like someone had stabbed a knife through his chest, right then, but without any pain. a tight pressure he can't swallow his way through. blanche whines his name, head drooping forward and hair messed up more than usual, twitching ears flattened against it.

iphi finds himself stroking through that sweaty hair, cooing at her with soft noises as he feels the pressure in his chest only mounting and mounting. she's pliant in his hands, all too easy to pull up and squish against his chest, unheeding of the mess smearing between their slick skin.

he leans down and kisses her, tasting himself on her tongue when she purrs and lets him do as he likes, and for some reason it tastes saltier than it should.

he feels like he's nine summers again, huddling under the table of a flame officer, shaking and being offered a rolanberry pastry, the woman trying to get him to talk to her despite him already doing so.

"oh, m'rose," blanche mutters, lifting one small hand to his face and rubbing under his eyes, over his tattoos. the tear tracks eventually dry up and he ends up just clinging to her, shoulders shaking like a leaf in the fall. "what's wrong? talk to me, iphi."

she shakes his head, unwilling to let go just yet and instead just peppering kisses all over her face, every little spot.

"y'know," she says after a bit, relaxed against him. her tail is lazily swinging back and forth. "i enjoyed that. i really did."

iphi's answer is a sob, arms tightening around her and a nod against her shoulder.

blanche had told herself she'd take it one baby step at a time, but tonight felt like a real big boy leap. she'll have to deal with… whatever is happening right now, but all she can feel is pride.

so she tells him.

"i'm proud of ya."

and he cries harder, clawing at her back in his desperation to somehow get her even closer than they already are. she kisses his broken horn, whispering how proud she is and how much she loves him, over and over until finally iphi's tears exhaust themselves and he's just slumped over her.

he's more than hesitant to pull away, but eventually he kicks himself to. "you looked… like what i feel, every time. enjoying it."

blanche's lips curl up. there's something in the look iphi bestows upon her, some kind of childlike wonder, adoration, or maybe just plain something she can't name. he looks like he'd just had the whole ground shaken under himself.

"'s what I meant, rose. ya deserve as good as ya give, that's what this's about."

and, for once, he doesn't try to convince her otherwise.


End file.
